


Party at a Rich Dude's house

by breath_of_mine (tsundanire)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal, Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, EWE sort of, F/F, F/M, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-09 22:30:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15277554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsundanire/pseuds/breath_of_mine
Summary: Inspired by the song prompt "Party at a Rich Dude's house" by Ke$ha. Harry and Draco spend years trying to get their shit together. They also have a hard time keeping it in their pants at parties.





	Party at a Rich Dude's house

**Author's Note:**

> I really just want to thank the mods for their patience, and for this fest! It's been loads of fun. Also lots of thanks to my beta Restlessandordinary for all those second looks and making sure it was perfect! Thank you for reading, hope you enjoy!

1.

 

The first time they did it was at the victory celebration at Hogwarts, after Voldemort’s defeat. It had been a whole three months since they’d seen each other, and a series of burials, funerals, ministry trials, and just generally trying to attain peace. Of course, Draco was surprised that Harry even spoke for him and his Mother at their own trials, though less surprised about his condemning his Father to life in Azkaban. And Harry was surprised that Draco practically disappeared after his trial. A quick thank you then a portkey to Merlin only knew where.

 

So when they saw each other across the Great Hall, after Professor McGonagall had given her thank you speech to those who’d help restore the castle, it was inevitable. It was both new and familiar all at the same time. The anger, resentment, bitterness, all there at first glance, was quickly replaced with need, urgency, and years worth of repressed yearning. There was no question that they’d been dancing around this since they’d met, and had things been different, they might have done this a lot sooner.

 

A single look was all it took, conveying every emotion they’d been locking away for so long, and a single nod, before they slowly extricated themselves from surrounding conversation and made their way out of the Great Hall. It would have looked so strange, had it not been for the perfect timing of one Rubeus Hagrid knocking over a whole tray of glasses and causing a ruckus.

 

They continued to walk in silence, side by side, afraid to break whatever it was enchanting them. There were many places they could go, but there was only one place that would heal them. The place where it almost began, but instead tore them apart. They ascended the stairs above the Great Hall, taking them to the second floor, and sped up as they neared the previously haunted girls’ lavatory. It was empty now of course, Myrtle taking up haunting with the other castle ghosts for sake of company, which meant that the second the door closed behind them, the atmosphere changed.

 

Harry had gone in first and turned quickly, pinning Draco against the wall by the door. Lips crashed together almost too forcefully, teeth grazing and drawing a bit of blood. Their first time like this was just this side of violent, where it was hard to say if they were actually rutting, or if they were just fighting with their dicks.

 

Draco’s hands lifted over Harry’s body, touching sides and chest, arms and shoulders, and eventually sifted through messy dark hair. Fingers carded through soft locks at first, but as their kissing turned harder, his caresses turned into hard grasping and tugging. Harry was equally keeping busy, trying get their belts undone and trousers lowered before wrapping his hand around both their lengths and pumping his fist furiously.

 

They broke the kiss, instead pressing their foreheads together, the air filling with grunts and heavy breathing. As Harry twisted his wrist over their purpled heads, one of them would occasionally cry out, or moan, though it was hard to say who at this point since they were just raw physical need.

 

“C-close-” Draco grunted into Harry’s ear, biting at the soft lobe with a slight growl. It was hard to keep his hips still, but it felt so much better when Harry rapidly stroked them together. He could feel Harry’s own cock twitching against his underside, which was enough to send him over the edge. With a loud shout, he was spilling liquid warmth into Harry’s palm, hips unable to stop from twitching forwards a few times. Harry wasn’t too far behind however, grunting his release into another aggressive kiss.

 

As his hand slowed however, so did the kiss, strangely turning soft and perhaps a little explorative in the afterglow. They were quick to cut that off however, Harry wiping his palms off on some tissues he’d stored in his pockets, while Draco pulled up his trousers and redid his belt.

 

He took one look at Harry, who looked thoroughly defiled like this, and smirked as he walked out of the washroom.

 

____

 

2.

 

It was at least another month or so before they saw each other again, this time at a party hosted by Blaise and Hermione. Although everyone thought that Hermione and Ron were endgame, it was clear after the first month of their relationship that it wasn’t meant to be. They were just too dissimilar, and like with Harry, had just gone through way too much to think of each other as anything other than family. And after one particular night at the pub, Hermione and Blaise had been introduced. The rest was history, as they say.

 

Unsure of what to think of their last encounter, Harry was a little hesitant to arrive to the party, knowing that Draco would have received an invitation too. Instead, he’d spent the afternoon trying to groom himself into perfection while drinking a few shots of Ogden’s best. By the time he’d arrived to the party, he felt pleasantly buzzed, and willing to head into any encounter with his former nemesis.

 

But Draco wasn’t there. In fact, it took at least an hour before he’d gathered enough courage to attempt a casual ask to his attendance.

 

“So… Malfoy… What’s he up to these days? Totally thought he would be here.” Right. Subtle. Totally casual.

 

Hermione saw straight through him of course, which meant Blaise did too. But they answered his question all the same, even if it was with amused glances at each other.

 

“Something about having to work late I believe. Isn’t that right?” Hermione turned to Blaise, a small little smile on her lips.

 

Blaise flicked a quick glance over at Harry, a smirk plastered right there on his face. He wasn’t going to hide it at all.

 

“Indeed. Should be here later.”

 

Harry tried to relax after that, but found that it only worked to make him more and more nervous.

 

“Oi! Have a drink mate. You’re gonna wear a hole in your pants, rubbing your hands on ‘em like that.”

 

Dean and Ron found him, and pulled him over to the hired bartender. They were both a bit sloshed of course, but that tended to happen a lot these days.

 

“Listen mate,-” Ron started, stabbing him in the chest with a finger. “They’ve got all that rich fancy drinky crap here eh? So you should drink it. Like us!”

 

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the overly inebriated state his best friend was currently in. It didn’t happen often, but it was generally always bound to happen when he was somewhere fancy. He never remembered doing it sober, but it happened every time all the same. Ron, Dean, and Seamus, when he attended, always went crazy at rich people’s houses. Though Harry never judged them for it, and assumed it was because they thought rich people liquor tasted better. Personally, Harry knew that alcohol was alcohol, and any of it in large quantities, no matter the quality, was going to get you stupid drunk.

 

Still, he lifted the offered shot to his lips and drank. The rest of the night was a bit of a blur, but the next morning he did remember bits and pieces. He recalled a few more shots after the first, and wondered vaguely if he shouldn’t amend his initial thought about rich people liquor. Then he recalled someone playing some music they could all dance to, and the three of them just cutting loose. Of course, Harry could only hope that no one took any pictures, or made any permanent record of the dancing, otherwise Harry would be forced to become a hermit for the rest of his mortal life.

 

Then there were flashes of blond in his memory. He recalled seeing Draco out of the corner of his eye, and then memories of stowing away into a closet somewhere. He recalled hands, lips, Draco’s perfect scent filling the small broom closet. He remembered drunkenly trying to mention his closet phobia, but not really getting words to string together properly.

 

And then he recalled falling into his bed.

 

____

 

3.

 

It was a whole season before they’d see each other again, though for different reasons. After that last encounter, Hermione had been rather put out by his behavior, and had given him a rather firm talking to. (Ron and Dean had received theirs on separate occasions) He felt embarrassed by his own behavior and uncertain about engaging in yet another quicky with Draco, Harry opted to avoid going out all together for a while. The best way to curb unruly behaviors was to avoid the things that caused them in the first place.

 

Draco, on the other hand, had two reasons for staying away. On the one hand, things had really picked up at the ministry for him. Although he wasn’t officially employed there, nor did he really need the income, it was out of interest and curiosity that he landed a position with the unspeakables. Due to the fact that he had spent his childhood around dark artifacts and cursed objects he was considered quite an authority on the subject. With Voldemort being vanquished, there were a lot of objects and artifacts on the loose, without having been catalogued. Items like these were high-risk in the right hands, and downright dangerous and deadly in the wrong ones. His job was to help track them down, and contain their individual threats.

 

His second reason could be encompassed into one singular entity known as Harry Potter. Ever since their encounter at Hogwarts, Draco had a hard time removing the memory of Harry’s body, his noises, even the way he looked as he came, from his mind.

 

He’d spent many a night at the manor just playing those memories behind his closed eyes, all while attempting to ignore the pressure in his pants.

 

But the thing about stupid Harry Potter was that once it was seen, it couldn’t be unseen. And it was almost debilitating trying to ignore it. He’d forced himself to focus on work instead, and was only partially successful. Which was why, when Draco had arrived to Blaise and Hermione’s party, seeing Harry on the dancefloor had driven him to the brink of insanity. To be fair, the dark haired mess of a man had looked three sheets to the wind, but was dancing to the beat of the music, and looked more carefree than Draco could ever recall seeing him.

 

Pansy was already at his side with a drink, which he downed in record time. After that it was a blur of tugging Harry into the nearest closet and shoving his own pants down to his knees, as Harry dropped down. If Draco thought their first encounter was hard to forget, then he’d need an obliviate to forget looking down and seeing those impossibly green eyes looking back up at him, all the while those lips were wrapped tightly around his thick cock.

 

But that was months ago, and Draco didn’t want to live his life with these tiny moments. He needed so much more than this. But what he wanted wasn’t always what he got. Which was proved months later, in early April, at Pansy and Luna’s engagement party. He couldn’t not attend, considering he was the best man, however he could only hope that Harry wouldn't attend. At the very least, for his own sanity.

 

As the guests began arriving, Draco did his duty in greeting each one, shaking their hands and asking after their health and families.

 

“Welcome Hannah, Neville.” He extended his hands in greeting, shaking one by one. “How’s your Grandmother’s health Neville?”

 

“She’s doing well, thank you. I believe she will likely outlive me.” Neville smiled politely, Hannah’s arm around his.

 

“Indeed, I daresay she’ll outlive us all.” Draco offered with a politely amused smile. “Hannah, if I recall, you enjoyed the fall riesling from my family’s summer home in France?”

 

Hannah smiled and nodded, though she looked eager to get inside as the queue was getting bigger behind her.

 

“Good! I believe they’ve just opened a fresh bottle at the bar inside. Please, do have a glass while you are here. I’d be happy to see it well nursed by good people.”

 

And with that they were ushered inside, and Draco turned to greet the next guest. But instead of who assumed was supposed to be Theodore Nott and his date, it was a pair of sparkling green eyes hidden behind wire glasses, and a mess of dark hair.

 

“Harry.” Draco was caught off guard, though using his first name had caught Harry equally off guard.

 

“Draco.” And there it was, that undercurrent of need simmering just beneath the surface of that voice. Just saying hearing his name like that, deep voice touching him like a caress. It was his undoing.

 

“Welcome. Staying a while?” Could he be any less casual.

 

“A little bit at least. Long enough to catch up with… everyone.” There was a hint of a saucy smile in that look. Was Harry flirting with him? Subtly flirting? Well two could play at that game.

 

“Of course. Well it’s my pleasure to host you this evening. Drinks at the bar, and a lovely closet-I mean bathroom down the hall.” And just a hint of the trademark smirk.

 

Harry’s cheeks bloomed a light pink as he nodded. “I’ll hope to see you inside then. Thank you.”

 

The exchanged ended far too soon, but of course he still had many guests to greet.

  


It had taken longer than expected to get through everyone, and by the time he’d made it back into the main ballroom, Harry was already a few drinks in. Someone had decided to enchant some muggle device to play music, which had a few people shuffling awkwardly on the dancefloor. Draco flicked a glance or two around the room to see if he could spot Harry somewhere, but it was like the male had disappeared. Instead, the blond wandered over to where Pansy was lingering.

 

“Where’s your wifey?” He nodded at the bartender, who poured out his usual bourbon over ice in a crystal tumbler.

 

“Wifey?” Pansy snorted. “That’s a new one. She’s on the dancefloor already, something about wrackspurts around Potter’s head and dragged him onto the dancefloor in order to dispel them. Or something along those lines at least.” Though the words might have come across as uncaring, or even unamused, they were said with a wistful tone, full of love clearly, for Luna. It was as if there was Pansy’s Slytherin nature in her words, but she couldn’t help how they actually came out because of how in love she was.

 

Draco watched her carefully, as if she was some kind of code he had to figure out. He hoped one day to find what they had, but didn’t put out much hope. His only current interest was Harry, and what they did was neither full of love, nor usually done sober. Still, with the way things were going, Draco was having a hard time keeping Harry out of his head for long.

 

“Wait.. Did you say Potter?” He whipped his head back to the dancefloor, scrutinizing once more.

 

Pansy must have heard something in his tone, because she gave him a bit of a once over, as if she were trying to see inside of his head.

 

“I did… Is that a problem?” She said with as bland a tone as she could.

 

“Nope. Just wanted to make sure I heard you correctly is all.” He turned to down his drink in one go, if only to turn away and not have to see her expression.

 

She had years of practice honing her blank expression, as did most of Slytherin house, though her raised eyebrow said enough. She thought there was a lot more he wasn’t saying, and she had to know what it was.

 

“Draco…” There wasn’t a need for other words, as she said all she needed to with just his name.

 

“Don’t, Pansy… Just don’t.” He closed his eyes, unwilling to put words to whatever it was he and Harry were doing. It would break the magic, or whatever spell was surrounding them. It would make it too real, and then they wouldn’t even have those random encounters at parties. Draco would be left with nothing, and for some strange reason that made his chest hurt rather painfully.

 

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt is all.” She said quietly, as if she already knew what he was thinking. Then again, she was an accomplished legilimens as well, so perhaps she really did know.

 

“Pans... “ He shook his head, feeling like he might lose it if she said anything else. “I know what I’m doing. Just let it be.” He snapped and ordered one more drink, hoping to get a little sloppy. At least with booze in his system, he wouldn’t have to really think. He could just react, he could do, and there weren’t really any consequences. Of course, he had no idea just how wrong he was, but it was a nice thought for the moment.

 

“As you wish Draco.” Pansy sounded a little hurt, but Draco knew she had tougher skin than that. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first nor the last time he snapped at her. She was his best friend, and the closest person to him. She knew how his emotions worked, and what would likely set him off. And therefore she also knew that Harry Potter had always been a bit of a trigger for him, though not always in the same way.  

 

Draco took another look over the dancefloor and finally spotted him, heart shooting up into his throat. This was a very dangerous game they were playing, but he couldn’t stop. Hell, Draco didn’t know if he could even actually stop at this point. He was just this side of too far gone. Grey eyes watched as Harry swayed with the music, surprisingly rhythmic for his otherwise awkward appearance.

 

Taking a step away from the bar, Draco took a slow turn around the room. Arms clasped behind his back, nodding occasionally at a guest or two, but he only had eyes for Harry. The liquor in his system made him feel bold and reckless, and it seemed that went both ways. For each step Draco took, Harry’s eyes tracked him as well. Green eyes dark with lust, glassy from drink, but also curious. Even as Harry’s body swayed and turned, his eyes never left Draco, taking him in like some predator about to strike. Draco made it to the other side of the room, and nodded his head towards the door leading out of the ballroom, making it quite clear that he expected Harry to follow.

 

He turned and exited, snapping his fingers for one of the nearby house-elves. The elf returned a moment later with a bottle of bubbly and two glasses. He leaned back against the wall, just waiting to see if Harry would make an appearance. In that span of time, Draco felt like his chest was being gripped by a vice, forcing him to take shallow breaths. But all that came out in a whoosh as he watched Harry turn the corner with quick steps, looking around for Draco.

 

“There you are.” Draco smirked and tilted his head in the direction they should head. “This way.”

 

Harry followed obediently, trailing just a step or two behind Draco.

 

“The closet?” Harry grinned and waggled his brows a bit. It was dorky and should have been a total turn-off, and yet on Harry it was adorably charming.

 

“Hardly. I thought maybe somewhere with just a bit more room?” It was a bit of a step, and he hoped that it didn’t make him seem too eager, but he at least wanted to try banking some memories in an actual bed this time. At least if they parted ways for good this time, Draco could put some pretty decent images in his pensieve.

Around another corner and up some stairs, brought them to a second level room with an open door. Draco gestured that Harry should enter the room, and followed in behind him.

 

As Harry walked about the room, fingers touching the bedspread lightly, Draco placed the glasses on one of the side tables, and opened the bottle with a loud pop. Harry jolted up like a frightened animal, clearly just as nervous as Draco. Pouring out liquid into both glasses, he offered one to Harry and took a sip.

 

“Here. Liquid balls.” Draco smirked at the former Gryffindor, watched as he took the glass and took a sip. They were both quiet for a moment, just drinking, until eventually Harry looked straight up at Draco, expression serious, and asked the one thing Draco had been dreading since they first tucked away in the girls’ loo.

 

“Why now?”

 

Draco placed his glass down, and moved in front of Harry.

 

“Does it really matter?” Draco slowly unbuttoned his shirt, slipping out of it and, uncharacteristically, letting it drop to the floor. Anything to serve as distraction from serious conversation at this point was good.

 

Harry seemed to think about that for a moment, looking far more sober than Draco felt.

 

“I guess not. For now anyways.”

 

He reached out and pulled Draco into the space between his legs, fingers trailing up and down tenderly. This was not how Draco expected this to go, concerned that perhaps they should have just gone to the closet after all, and continued the tradition of quick and dirty. Using a bed like this allowed for too many emotions, and a slowness that felt far too intimate. In fact, Harry pulled Draco down into a kiss that was soft and hesitant, barely a hint of teeth.

 

Somehow Harry managed to secure his hands under Draco’s thighs and lifted him up at the same time as standing, so that those thighs wrapped around Harry’s waist instead. Twisting them around, Harry dropped Draco’s back on the bed, but somehow never stopped kissing him.

 

Draco started his own exploring, letting his hands run up Harry’s sides once more. He lifted the material of that shirt, touching and pulling where he could. The tips of his fingers grazed against Harry’s nipples, causing a shiver to run down his spine. Draco couldn’t help but grin into the kiss, and causally touch them again.

 

“Sensitive are we?” He whispered against Harry’s lips.

 

“Y-yeah.” Harry just slightly whined, as Draco used his thumbs and pinched. Draco closed his eyes and arched his hips. He was painfully hard just from kissing, which was not a good sign, but as Harry ground his hips right back into him, it was clear he wasn’t the only one affected.

 

“Shirt. Off.” Draco demanded, all while undoing the belt on his trousers and shimmying out of them.

 

There was a pulsing energy in the room now, swelling around them and making it hard to breath. But he couldn’t stop himself now, groaning as Harry pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside. Harry stopped him stripping off his pants too, however, dropping himself lower on the bed so that he could gently nuzzle Draco’s waist.

 

“God you just…. Fuck Draco, you smell incredible. It’s making me so dizzy…” He truly sounded miles away.

 

“I’m pretty sure that’s just what being drunk feels like, you dolt.”

 

Harry laughed against his skin and it was like feathers tickling him. The sound was low and rich, touching Draco in places that he didn’t know a voice could. It made him squirm.

 

Everything was feeling then, his brain numbed out by the alcohol, and the smell of Harry’s shampoo. He moaned softly as he was bit at one of his slightly protruding hip bones, the bite then soothed by Harry’s tongue.

 

Draco threw one arm over his eyes and groaned as Harry continued to tease him just above where he needed Harry to be.

 

“Dear Merlin Potter, just do it already.” He thrust his hips up eagerly to drive his point home. “I’m not getting any younger here.” He smirked.

 

“Is that so? Actually I think you might be right…” Draco raised a brow and flicked a glance down to where Harry was tugging on a patch of the soft blond hair trailing downward from his bellybutton. “I think I’ve spotted some gray.” Harry grinned up at him. It should have looked ridiculous, however seeing him down there with Draco’s straining erection just inches away from those perfect lips… It was incredibly beautiful.

 

“Oi, you cheeky bastard.” Draco lifted himself up on his elbows, but couldn’t help the smile gracing his own lips. “Hurry up before I just decide to do it myself.”

 

“As you wish.” Harry purred a moment before slipping the tip of Draco’s cock between his lips.

 

It didn’t matter how many times they did this, each time felt like heaven. There was nothing Draco could compare to the feeling of Harry’s tongue swirling around the head, then sucking the rest of the shaft down to the root. It felt like Harry gave the same attitude towards blowjobs as he had with Quidditch.

 

It was an aggressive competition that Harry had no intention of losing, especially to Draco. Not that it was a bad thing currently, especially given the gusto with which Harry was slurping at his cock. Draco arched his hips again, but Harry stopped him with a firm grip to his slender hips. He couldn’t blame the brunet of course, seeing as there was a certain level of control and trust required for face fucking, and it wasn’t one they had developed just yet. But Draco no longer had any patience for Harry’s antics, and only wanted more pleasure. He was a needy creature, desperate for the intensity that seemed to be building around them like a thick blanket.

 

“Haaaarryyyy…” Draco whined, body twisting and turning in the bed.

 

Again, Harry responded only with a chuckle after pulling off of him. There was a sharp slap to his thigh, which brought him back just enough to pay attention. Harry was fumbling with the button of his trousers, but eventually managed to undo them and slip the material down.

 

“Really Potter?” Draco smirked. “I never really pictured you as the type to go starkers beneath your trousers."  Harry just smirked right back on him, and it was a look that was strangely attractive on him. He’d likely have made a good Slytherin in another life.

 

Harry rolled his eyes and swatted him on the thigh again, tossing the denim trousers aside.

 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about Gryffindors. Like how some of us like the feel of rough denim against our cocks, because it creates a rather… intense sort of friction that keeps us on edge for hours.”

 

Draco’s mouth ran dry. He supposed he could have been very wrong about those golden boys after all. Maybe Slytherins weren’t the biggest sexual freaks at Hogwarts after all. Though the more he thought about it, the more sense it seemed to make. Being viewed as evil and the like, people always assumed the worst about the sex lives of Slytherins, which meant nobody really ever had to hide their interests. Whereas Gryffindors had to live their lives under constant scrutiny, being bold and brave, but also being considered all that is and was utterly ‘good’ in the world. Stigma like that could create some pretty intensely closeted bedroom freaks.

 

Hearing Harry talk with that filthy mouth, saying words that he could never have imagined said from those supposedly innocent lips… It created a whole new layer to Harry that Draco was eager to explore. His brain came back online with a quick firing of signals, though still somewhat dampened by the drink in his system.

 

“God Harry, you filthy fuck. Fuck me now before I lose my bloody mind.” Draco groaned and grappled at the newly revealed flesh of Harry’s skin.

 

But Harry, with all the patience of a saint, pushed Draco back down with a hand to his chest and spelled some lubrication to his fingers. Draco wanted to savour the memory of Harry touching his insides for the first time, but his mind took him away. The next thing he recalled was feeling the burning stretch as Harry’s cock delved deep inside of him. It was a bit thicker than he was used to, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

 

The burn felt incredible, stretching wide open for the savior of the wizarding world himself. Each thrust in was both excruciating and glorious at the same time. Draco’s back arched, while at the same time his legs wrapped around Harry’s back.

 

Seconds stretched into minutes, the only thing keeping time was the sounds of their heavy breathing and occasional moans, as well as the sound of their flesh connecting on each thrust. At one point, Harry shifted and managed to hit that sweet spot deep inside Draco that made him go cross-eyed.

 

“Ngh, r-right there. Don’t stop-” Draco grunted into Harry’s ear, hand wrapping around himself in time with each thrust. But as he was getting too close to the edge, all it took was Harry’s loud moan against his neck, and he was shooting creamy ropes between their two chests.

 

Everything was sluggish and seemed to be moving at such a slow pace, even as Harry’s thrusts sped up. But when he closed his eyes, they didn’t open again until something bright flashed across his face.

 

Blinking against the brightness, Draco lifted his arm up to shield his eyes.

 

“..-the fuck is that?” Draco looked around to see sunlight streaming through the slit of curtain covering the massive windows. Daylight? That didn’t make sense…

 

Draco patted down and felt that his lower half was covered with his duvet, and that Harry was not in fact, on top of him.  Another look around the room, groggy eyes trying to blink away the rest of his drowsiness, Draco realized that Harry was not anywhere to be seen.

 

Draco slowly lifted himself up and off the bed, grunting from the effort and feeling the weight of a hangover sitting in his body. Everything felt loud, including the brightness of the sun, which made the nausea he was feeling even worse.

 

After finding and slipping on his clothing, as well as snagging a pair of sunglasses to shield himself from the sun, Draco headed out for his walk of shame. Hopefully the wizarding gods, if there were any, would smile on him and ensure that no one saw him leaving like this. But as per his usual luck, it wasn’t meant to be.

 

“Well well well…” Pansy’s voice cut through the hallway, smug and a bit inquisitive. “Draco dearest. Come, breakfast will help.” She sounded far too cheerful for this hour of the morning. Draco wanted to keep walking away, but knew that Pansy would not only follow him, but would make sure to hide all of his hangover elixirs in the process.

 

So instead, he turned around and followed the painful cracking sounds of her footsteps, wondering if her choice of platform heels were done on purpose. Maybe she knew what he and Potter had gotten up to, and had decided that this was her form of punishment. Thinking of Harry reminded him of last night and what may or may not have happened. Everything was still a bit of a blur, but he did recall that everything was feeling incredible.

 

Draco realised he was definitely being punished at the same time that they entered the drawing room. The decor looked much like what Draco imagined a muggle Easter egg might look like. Bright pinks, fuschias, and yellows were splashed across each wall and over the couches that lined the room. The blinds had been tied open, windows blasting sunlight through the room like some kind of explosion. The sunglasses did absolutely nothing to stop the pain digging into his head. Luna was sitting at the table, discussing something with Hermione and Blaise, in a tone that he assumed was supposed to be quiet but sounded like they had all enchanted their throats with the sonorus charm.

 

“Oh god… I’m leaving.” Draco lurched sideways, ready to empty his stomach into or onto whatever was nearest.

 

“No you are not. You are going to stay and endure. But I will give you a little help.” Pansy snapped for one of her house elves, who came at once with a tiny vial of something.

 

“Stinson’s hangover fixer elixir. I have it on good authority that it’s just the best thing in elixirs.”

 

“On whose authority?”

 

“Granger’s.” Pansy grinned and handed off the bottle. “Either drink it or don’t. But you’re still stuck here having breakfast with us, until I say otherwise.” Oh she was definitely punishing him, but for what specifically? It wasn’t like there was only one thing this time.

 

Rolling his eyes, Draco swiped the vial from Pansy and downed the tiny mouthful. He gagged and placed a hand over his mouth in an attempt to keep everything left in his stomach down.

 

“That is just… absolutely revolting.” He groaned, making his way to the table and taking a seat. Pansy winked and offered a cheeky grin in response.

 

“Yeah, but it works. And even if it doesn’t, I’m still going to have you tell me what you and Potter got up to last night, and why we saw him sneaking out half dressed this morning.”

 

Draco rolled his eyes when Pansy took the seat right next to him. As if she didn’t already know. This was going to be a long morning.

  


____

 

4.

 

Four weeks. It had been four tremendously long, and incredibly frustrating weeks, since Pansy and Luna’s party. Four weeks since Harry and Draco actually made it to a bed, and got most of the way to the end goal. Four depressingly morose weeks since Harry whispered soft confessions of feelings into Draco’s chest before passing out beside him. Four grueling, agonizing weeks since Harry had heard from Draco. It was probably time to let go and move on. Because if Draco had felt the same way and been interested, Harry would have heard from him by now. Instead, Draco probably wanted something far more casual from Harry, or maybe he knew that there was a family legacy to continue and that couldn’t involve Harry.

 

Either way, after four weeks, Harry didn’t want to get out of bed.

 

So when an incessant knocking came at the door, Harry placed his pillow over his head and waited for it to stop. It didn’t of course, because Hermione was on the other side.

 

“Get up Harry! I know something is upsetting you, but you need to get up. We have to be at the Burrow in fifteen minutes.”

 

Harry groaned into his blankets and rolled over. Much as he would like to mope about for the entirety of the day, Molly would probably floo over, grab him by the ear, and drag him back over herself.

 

It took at least another five minutes of staring at the ceiling before Harry found some spare energy and rolled out of bed, found some clothes, and got dressed. He wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to make it through dinner without noticing how miserable he was, let alone without someone asking him what was going on. It took another few minutes of staring at a mirror, willing himself cheerful, before Hermione eventually came back and dragged him to the floo.

 

“Alright Harry?” She prodded gently. Of everyone, she would know exactly how little Harry would want to talk about his feelings, but it was her way of checking in all the same. He shook off the last of the somber feelings and offered her his best smile.

 

“Just tired is all.”

 

Clearly she believed him about as well as she believed Ron when he told her he’d finished all his homework for his classes back at Hogwarts. Searching through her purse, Hermione pulled out a small green vial.

 

“Here. Pepper-up potion. At least then you won’t have to pretend so hard.” She smiled at Harry kindly as he accepted it and downed the liquid in one go. He knew she’d always be there for him, especially if he needed a shoulder. Perhaps after dinner he’d lay it all out there to her and see what she thought, but the thought was dismissed quickly as the potion began to take effect.

 

“Thanks ‘Mione.” He said before activating the floo.

 

With a woosh and a blast of green flames, Harry and Hermione arrived at the Burrow and were greeted with an assortment of freckly arms and red hair. Once greetings were out of the way, Molly ushered everyone outside to help set out a spread of a table. As the wandered out, Harry was jostled by Ginny, who smiled at him with that twinklish charm he’d always liked. Maybe coming here tonight hadn’t been such a bad idea after all. Harry mulled over the thought as he offered his hand to the red haired female. If Draco didn’t want to start something, Harry could take the hint and do his best to move on. Even if he spent the next 15 or so years, he’d spend every day wondering what life could have been like if they’d taken that next step together.

 

___

 

15 years later…

 

“I swear to Merlin, Weasley. I don’t know why I ever let you talk me into this.” Draco grumbled to Ron, who sat back drinking the finest Draco had in his stores. They’d made it a habit over the last few years to get together and demolish whatever was left of the old Malfoy cellar and start a whole new collection without the family name tainting it. Well at least that’s what they said it was, when in reality it was two people who came from two completely different worlds, bridging the gap of prejudice and actually becoming friends.

 

So much so that when Draco said he was ready to get back out there after Astoria’s passing, Ron was more than happy to throw him a party re-integrating him into the dating scene. No couples had been invited, just the perpetual bachelors and a few recently single folk. Among the invited was Theodore Nott, Seamus Finnigan, Ernie MacMillan, and Anthony Goldstein to name a few.

 

The guests were ushered into the main study, which could fit at least an astounding 50 people on a good day. For now it created a cozy atmosphere for gentlemen, with a fire lit and golden coloured drinks being passed around in crystal glasses. Each drink was enchanted with a little dragon that breathed magical fire into the whiskey, supposedly giving it an added smoky flavour on the way down. Mostly it just looked really cool and that was how Ron made most of the decisions regarding this party. Of course, he hadn’t mentioned to Draco about another guest he’d chosen to invite, as it would likely have been met with fierce rejection.

 

In fact, had anyone asked Draco about Harry or likewise Harry about Draco, over the last few years, the answer would have varied from stuttering and general flustered embarrassment to narrowed eyes and a bit of tense anger. It was surmised by all their friends that something had happened between them, which didn’t surprise anyone either, and it hadn’t ended well. But for fear of being on either of their shitlists, no one had bothered or dared to really broach that particular subject and had instead simply placed their bets on what the future might hold.

 

And since Ron was not only a betting man, but also quite a sore loser, he was taking steps to ensure his was the outcome that won. Well that and of course he cared about his friends’ happiness. But mostly the bets.

 

“You let me talk you into this because you know that I would do this to you anyways. At least this way, you were given choices.” Ron grinned and clinked their glasses together, moving to the front of the gathered guests.

 

“Boys! Your attention please.” Ron looked around, smiling at the group. “I just want to thank you all for coming this evening, and helping this one-” He pointed to Draco with his glass. “Back out into society. I know you love the idea of just hiding in your metaphorical castle forever, but you can’t. We won’t let you. And your son won’t let us not let you.” A few people chuckled, but most didn’t really follow the nonsensical joke.

 

Draco was hiding his slight smile behind his glass. Wouldn’t do to let people know he was actually happy to have them in his space again.

 

“Tonight, we invite you to mingle, play some cards or perhaps some chess, and of course drink up all the best that the Malfoy cellar can offer.” Ron grinned.

 

At that moment the door to the study creaked open. It would have been an otherwise unheard sound, but in the quiet from Ron’s toast every head ended up turning to look. Including Draco’s.

 

Standing there, awkwardly trying to sidle into the room, was Harry Potter. The tension rising in the room was palpable, and it was hard to say if it was out of anger or some other kind of charged energy. It was clear that although Harry had known exactly who would be here, Draco had not. For his part at least, Harry looked sheepish, whilst Draco simply looked murderous.

 

“Ron.”

 

The redhead had known that as soon as Harry had arrived, there would be a conversation had. Ron had only hoped that Harry would have arrived a bit more unnoticed.

 

“Yes my liege?” Ron grinned, lowering himself to kneel by the couch Draco was currently sitting on.

 

“What is he doing here?” It was whispered quietly, and thus hard to tell how angry Draco actually was. Though, his grey eyes never left Harry’s as the male started to converse with the nearby MacMillan.

 

“I invited him.”

 

“Yes, I assumed as much.” Draco rolled his eyes and directed his full attention on Ron. “I meant, why?”

 

“Because you are back on the market.” Ron started, and he could tell Draco already knew where he was going with this, if his widened gaze was any clue.

 

“No. Don’t even-”

 

“Aaaaand,” Ron continued as if Draco hadn’t even tried speaking. “He’s also recently back on the market.” Ron did his best smirk, knowing that Draco didn’t know that. In fact, aside from Harry, Ginny, and their lawyers, Ron was about the only other person who currently knew about the dissolution of their marriage.

 

“-try to start with that-.... Wait what?” Draco looked back and forth between Harry and Ron, unsure of how to process. Harry, for his part mostly just looked the part of stunned deer.

 

“So I’ll just leave you to it. I expect you’ll want a bit of privacy so…” Ron stood tall again and clinked his glass against Draco’s for everyone’s attention again. “Alright gents. Let’s go to the dinning room for some little tasties and an ice cream bar.” Ron grinned and waved the group out of the room.

 

He waited out in the hall, letting the rest of the boys file away, and closed the door behind him. He couldn’t hear anything outside the door, and knew that it might be a few minutes before they actually attempted talking and would instead be staring at each other in stunned silence. And as entertaining as it would have been to watch, they deserved their privacy.

____

 

Draco stared at Harry, whose eyes were trained on the floor. The years had been good to Harry, who stood tall and strong against the wood paneled wall. His hair was as much a disaster now as it had been years before, but there were traces of gray among the darkness. It gave him a rather dignified look, rather than just plain old. The gangly-ness of his youth was completely gone, replaced instead by this confident man.

 

“How are the kids?” Draco asked politely, voice quiet and unsure. It was probably the dumbest place to start but he felt a bit unsteady in these new waters. He’d avoided letting himself even think of Harry for many years, letting the feelings burrow inside of him instead.

 

Harry just chuckled and shook his head. “They’re fine. Youngest starts school this September.” Remaining where he was, one leg crossed over the other casually, Harry seemed as equally unsure about this situation. Silence reigned again as they tried to process what to say. Finally Harry spoke again, voice quiet but steady.

 

“I wasn’t entirely certain I wanted to show tonight.”

 

“So why did you then?” Draco retorted, a slight edge to his voice. Was he still feeling angry after all these years?

 

“Ron didn’t leave me much choice. It was either show up tonight, or I have to wear a gown to the next ministry evening event. This seemed the lesser of two evils… Now though, I’m wishing I’d gone with the gown.”

 

They both chuckled, but it wasn’t completely out of humour.

 

“Well. I guess that’s that…” Harry wondered if just running away at this point would be an option. Draco’s blank expression made him seem more shell-shocked than anything.

 

“Why did you marry her?”

 

“What?” Harry blinked owlishly at Draco.

 

Draco looked at Harry once more, eyes like lasers attempting to penetrate right through the very heart of him.

 

“I asked you why you married Ginevera. I think that’s as clear as I can get.”  


A flash of anger washed over Harry as he understood the accusation pointed at him. His green eyes narrowed at Draco’s older form. The blond was still devastatingly handsome, which made being here like this even harder.

 

“Don’t even try to pin this around on me. I’ve spent the last 15 years trying to forget that we ever happened. It’s been hell.”   

 

Draco rose to his feet, planting his body in a defensive stance.

 

“Are you putting me on? Forgetting me was hell was it? And how long exactly did it take to fall into her arms? Five minutes? I had to find out that we were done through the damned prophet.” Draco retorted, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

 

“Excuse me? You were the one who didn’t owl or attempt to contact me after that night. I waited four weeks to hear from you, and even put my ego aside and sent you a message, only to again… not get a response.” Harry felt like his chest was ripping apart inside again, just from reliving all that agony again. Marrying Ginny had made sense at the time, as a last ditch attempt to show Draco he could move on too, and as a way to forget. Neither worked. Harry slumped on the couch, letting his head fall forwards into his hands. There was a distinct sting behind his eyes that he refused to let anyone, let alone Draco, see. It was his pain to bear, and his alone.

 

“I carried my feelings for you everyday since that night. I kept hoping you’d change your mind and want something more with me. But instead, you just left me hanging and wondering if you even felt the same way. I couldn’t take it anymore, and Ginny was there for me. She cared for me, wanted more with me, and was willing to look past the baggage that I clearly came with.” His voice lowered to a more hushed tone that Draco had to strain to hear. “At least for a little while anyways.”

 

“That’s not exactly fair Harry. You keep saying I rejected you, when I don’t even recall you telling me you wanted more.” Draco murmured, leaning his head against Harry’s shoulder. All the anger from moments before seemed to melt, instead changing to something far more tender and raw. “I don’t actually remember a lot from the last night I saw you, aside from waking up at Pansy’s naked, alone, and with the worst hangover ever.”

 

Harry paused, turning his head slightly. “How can you not remember? I told you that I was falling in love with you, and you kissed me.”

 

“Harry… Did you not see how much I’d drunk that night? It was kind of a wonder that I was even standing…” Draco looked at Harry with slightly saddened eyes. “Not exactly the kind of position to remember love confessions.” He placed a hand over Harry’s. “What happened with Ginny?”

 

“She left. She was done being second in my life, and eventually even lower on the list after the kids were born. To be honest, I’m surprised she stayed as long as she did.” Harry shrugged, both saddened and not. Rather, he was feeling a bit more content with their current position. Especially now that they were clearing the air.

 

“I’m sorry…” It didn’t nearly cover everything Draco wished it could, but it was a start.

 

“Me too.” Harry turned to lean his head against the top of Draco’s. “We’ve both been a bit silly, haven’t we?” He murmured fondly.

 

“Mm. Wasted a lot of time.” Draco agreed.

 

There was a slight shifting until Harry managed to spread Draco against the couch. “Perhaps we should start making up now. A lot of catching up to do, don’t you think?” Harry asked, tone allowing Draco to back out if it was too much for right now.

 

But rather than answering with words, Draco pulled Harry’s head down and into a deep, lingering kiss.

 

___

 

6.

 

Ron looked around at the gathered guests at the new Potter-Malfoy Manor. All had gathered in celebration of Teddy’s engagement to Victoire. They had spent the day decorating, Molly more than overjoyed at the prospect of making a feast for so many guests. Harry and Draco simply sat back and watched fondly as their family was finally complete. It had taken some time and a few more fights before they finally got their shit together, and perhaps the encouragement from all their friends and family helped.

 

They were always meant to be, but Ron was certain that everyone was happy that the hardest part of them getting together was actually over. After the first few months, Ron also started to notice a bit of a trend, and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it. Each time they all gathered to a party, at some point he’d look and the couple would have completely disappeared. He tried following them once, but got completely turned around and lost track of them.

 

Today, he was going to figure it out for sure, as most everyone would be completely distracted with the party.

 

“A toast, to the Bride and Groom to-be!” Bill raised his glass, asking everyone to do the same, but Ron kept his attention on Harry and Draco instead, and was able to spot the exact moment that they turned to look at each other with a small little grin then sneak out of the room.

 

Ron took swift steps to the door, peeking around the corner to see them turning as well. One more peek around that corner, and Ron could see them sneaking into what he’d always assumed was a closet. With a confused expression, he dashed after them and waited for the door to close. Once there, Ron pressed his ear to the door and at first couldn’t hear anything but the shifting of clothing. After a moment he could hear whispering.

 

“Watch it Potter, this is silk. And it’s new.” Draco’s annoyed voice carried through the door.

 

“I know.” Harry’s amused voice said. “And if I wreck it, I’ll just buy you another one.”

 

“That’s why you had to buy me this one in the first place. I want-” Draco’s voice cut off with an annoyed squawk of outrage. “Are you kidding me? What kind of heathen just rips open someone’s shirt?”

 

“The kind of heathen who’s been horny for the last three hours and has thought of nothing but ripping this shirt off of you in that time. The kind of heathen who is going to mark all this beautiful pale skin with bites and if you’re lucky, something else too.”

 

“Oho~ Is that what you think?” But Draco’s voice wasn’t unaffected, clearly eager for the same thing to happen.

 

“Yeah. It’s what I know. Now get on your knees baby, I want to see those pretty lips praying on my cock.”

 

Ron stepped back from the door, looking pale and sick. He definitely did not need to hear those things about his best friend. He didn’t want to know any of it, even if a small part of him was happy for them, all he wanted to do now was find the nearest bathroom and gag.

 

As he turned to run, he heard one more thing from that closet.

 

“I’ll pray forever, as long as it means we can do this again at the next Weasley gathering. We still have to cross Ron’s old bedroom at the burrow off the list of places to mark.”

 

Ron never made it to the bathroom.

 

FIN

  



End file.
